Except as noted, all images copyrighted by and should be attributed to E B Hawley.
I had become many eons ago a traveling literary gnome, inquisitive about places I had and had not visited,
walking the same paths of peoples from the past, through places once grand and still grand,
photographing images that now show me the places about which I still dream . . .

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Through the clouds today, MyMrMallory flew us to Fort Worth.
Mission: Lunch with Nancy and Julian at Joe T. Garcia's.

Approach chart opened and within reach. 

Radios and instruments set for our destination.

Into the clouds we took off. Aviators would say, "We took off into the soup."

At 5,500 feet, we flew above the soup. MyMrMallory mentioned 
his desire to order menudo at the Joe T. Garcia's. 

Meacham airport appeared underneath the layer of clouds. 
The city of Fort Worth stands in the background to the left. 

Pause for lunch. 
Delighted to see my friends again after two or three years, 
though Karl's passing still pains us. We feel honored
and joyful to have known him; and I feel 
honored to know my friends.

Returning home, we flew into clear skies over Fort Worth, and soon
spotted the line of clouds that would remain until we arrived 
at our airport. 

We held around the VOR while a King Air pilot negotiated ineptly around Sheppard's airspace. 
What a doofus, but thankfully he finally landed safely. 

Finally, ATC gave us instruction to land, but only four miles
from the runway and at 6,000 feet, I asked MyMrMallory, 
"Are you going to slip?" He chuckled and descended to 1,800 feet,
landing on runway 31 smoothly. 

       Speaking of friends, after landing, MyMrMallory then hopped into his helicopter to take B.J. for a ride -- a surprise for her arranged by Mac. Gretchen and Gibson asked me, "What is the surprise," I said, "Let me show you," and pointed at MyMrMallory, who appeared from around the hangars pulling the helicopter. Such glee in B.J.'s eyes when she learned about the ride. 
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Let Lovely Turn of Phrase Begin

JMHawley Gave Me a Kiss to Build a Dream On

Listen, will you? I think that . . . literature, poetry, music and love make the world go round . . . while mathematics explains things; I fill my life with them, then go walking in snowy woods.
Let us go then, you and I
like two etherized patients floating
through life, together feeling prufrockian.
DDB Jr. makes my world go 'round; during his absence, Pachelbel fills it up.
One summer I sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, then through the Gulf of Finland to reach Saint Petersburg; I pursued Joseph Brodsky in its alley ways. I dream of making that two summers.
I read “Biking to Electra;” found my way in a Jaguar car, and glanced at the flashing steel grasshoppers at sunset. I’ll follow K.O.P.’s footsteps after he followed N.Scott Momaday’s; find warmth and inspiration on a rainy mountain.
Throw chinese coins for the I Ching.
Save the whales, the spotted owl, the woman in toil.
Cast a fly for trout; my memories of fly fishing under the sunny blue Colorado sky remain; I yearn to build more . . . with more trophy Browns.
Listen for the swan’s calls on the Baltic Sea. Feel KKII's joy, his arms spread wide in Yazilikaya.
Good night, Jimmy Durante, where ever you are.